


Lullaby of the Lonely Mountain

by doctormccoy



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Short little fluff drabble.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 13:43:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormccoy/pseuds/doctormccoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drabble based on the quote from Richard Armitage about 'The Misty Mountain': “It was a cradle song that Thorin may have sung to his young nephews to say, look, we must never forget what happened.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lullaby of the Lonely Mountain

**Author's Note:**

> A short little fic based on this quote from Richard Armitage about “The Misty Mountain”: “It was a cradle song that Thorin may have sung to his young nephews to say, look, we must never forget what happened.” ([x](http://somesortofnoplace.tumblr.com/post/39945473716/it-was-a-cradle-song-that-thorin-may-have-sung-to))

Thorin sighed softly as he draped his filthy tunic across his bed, exhaustion ingrained in every sweat and dust stained inch of his body. He was working even harder than ever these days, struggling to finish an order in time so he could afford to feed his nephews. Dis still had yet to return from her own work and his lip curled at the thought of his sister, who should have a forge of her own and apprentices at her elbows, not slaving away in a forge of leering men. She deserved better. Their people deserved better.

His brooding is interrupted by two hands tugging at his breeches, the exiled King turning to look down at the small, innocent faces of his nephews staring up with matching sleepy expressions.

“Boys, you’re supposed to be sleeping,” he murmured, reaching down to pick up the two children and balanced them on his hips, wincing at the smudges of dirt he was leaving on their clean, if threadbare, clothing.

This threatened to send him into another fit of dark anger, but he forced it back. Fili and Kili still had the innocent joy all children faced the world with. There was no point in letting them realize the ugliness of it just yet.

“Kee had to pee,” Fili mumbled, tucking his face against his Uncle’s neck with a sleepy noise. Thorin chuckled, taking the pair back towards their bedroom.

“And you were helping him. You’re a good boy, Fili,” he said softly, depositing them in their bed and tucking the blankets in around them. Fili had been forced to grow up so fast, caring for his brother while Dis and Thorin worked day and night to feed and clothe them. He was fiercely proud of his nephews for the strength they showed, even at such tender ages.

He turns to go and is stopped by a small hand grabbing at his finger, Kili’s big brown eyes staring up at him from around his fist, thumb firmly planted in his mouth.

“Cah we ‘ave a wuwwaby, Un’le?” he slurred around the digit, tugging on Thorin’s finger.

The dwarf sighed and gave him a small, gentle smile, settling down on the edge of his nephews’ bed.

“Of course, little one.”

He smoothed the boy’s wild black locks back from his face and pulled the blanket up to Fili’s chin, humming quietly.

_“Far over the misty mountains cold,_

_To dungeons deep and caverns old.”_

Thorin’s voice was low and rumbling in the small bedroom, and even as he watched, their eyelids slowly lowered.

Thorin sang them the song of their people. Of their true home.

The song of their future and their birth right.

The song of what was, and what should never be forgotten.

_“The pines were roaring on the height,_

_The winds were moaning in the night,_

_The fire was red, it flaming spread;_

_The trees like torches blazed with light…”_

His voice trailed off into the darkness when he saw his audience had fallen asleep, a tender look in his eyes. The dwarf King leaned down and kissed their brows, untangling his finger from Kili’s grasp and leaving without a sound.

That night he made a promise to himself as he stared into the flickering orange of the fire.

One day, they would reclaim Erebor.

One day, he would take Fili and Kili home.


End file.
